


A Man and His Dragon

by Kazara



Series: The Yanorian Chronicles [1]
Category: Original Work
Genre: Dragons, Fantasy, Gen, Slice of Life
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-06-09
Updated: 2018-06-28
Packaged: 2019-05-20 00:56:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 7,515
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14884559
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kazara/pseuds/Kazara
Summary: Matthew and his artificial soulbound dragon partner, Aluca, wake up and find themselves alive and well inside a world they do not know. They must learn about the world around them, along with the race they are a part of, before outside events threaten to tear apart their civilization, livelihood, and all the friends they make along the way.Obligatory stuff: Tags are a bit sketchy and definitely not final ATM as I don't have much to work off of. x-posted to Fictionpress, Royal Road, and WattPad because why not?





	1. The Shadows of Creation

**Author's Note:**

> To be honest, its kind of annoying trying to find three (or four) places to post this. With the MLP fics, they were EASY. Fanfiction, Fimfiction, and this site. For original ones? Not so much. This one, Fictionpress, Royal Road (probably), and WattPad of all places. I did not know this site had the Original Work fandom. Now that I do, I can post other stuff here.
> 
> Anyway, Enjoy!

# Chapter 1: The Shadows of Creation

* * *

 

The evening began as it normally would for the king: He has dinner with his close associates in the town square; heads to the altar to pay tribute to his god, Atraxa; then heads into his personal chambers. His gaze sweeps along the stone walls, shedding his black cloak once he deems his surroundings safe. His brown hair falls to the middle of his neck and he lets out a tired sigh. He runs his hands through shadowed tendrils that emanate from the cloak as it hits the ground. It slowly fades away and the shadows seek other shadows the candlelight casts on the room around him. The king’s gaze turns to his shadow coated hand. It was a familiar warmth to him, much like the candlelight or the fireplaces he warms his hands over. The shadow snakes down his arm, bringing the heat with it and the bitter cold on the areas it leaves behind.

Laying on a hook near the door lies his personal bathrobe. The red and gold colored fur is twinged with thin branching dark veins that take up the entirety of the bottom edge of the robe. Pinned on the left side is a gold emblem. Taking up the center is a multi-walled city carved around a mountain. Four beings surround the city with their arms interlocked. Standing behind them are four other larger and more extravagant looking beings. They each have a hand on the shoulder of the being they are standing behind. The king walks to the robe and puts it on, the veins flaring to life and filling the cloak with heat.

Ice, rain, and snow drum up against the sides of the tower he calls home. Outside, the city lights reflect off the half-frozen water. The city itself looks essentially dead. The few who wander outside step carefully, occasionally slipping on ice the wanderers did not see. Secretly, the king wonders if they were of his kind or not. He had no trouble making the trip to the tower when the storm hit.

_Why did they not see?_  He thinks.  _They should have seen._  He shivers gently and heads to bed, sitting down in it. The king closes his eyes, then lays down on the bed. The heat from the robe quickly knocks him out, sending him into a deep and dreamless sleep, or so he usually thinks.

To the northwest, where the vast swaths of plains meet the forest, a shadow horse and his rider gallop down a well-traveled road. Shadows trail behind the horse with every move it makes. The rider is a large and well-cloaked man with no visible facial features. His left hand is placed on the horse’s neck, while the right is holding a dark grey dagger. As his surroundings fade into dense forest, he urges the horse on, eager to get out of these woods. He knows the night creatures are hungry, but does not fear them. A shiver runs up his spine, his right hand aiming at a rapidly approaching bush. Soundlessly, he flicks the dagger as he passes by the bush. A roar breaks the silence, followed by the sound of paws hitting the forest floor. The being rolls his eyes, a second dagger appearing in his hand. He shifts his upper body a bit, throwing the dagger at the wild creature’s neck and sensing it sink in.

_Foolish creature_ , He thinks.  _You cannot hide from me._  He extends his senses out towards the slain creature. The heat of the creature’s body and the blood fills him with some level of comfort. Opposing the comforts were the creature’s last thoughts and intentions, and with it a sense of understanding. The man knew the feeling of hunger and the accompanying drive to get rid of it. In the creature’s eyes, it was only wanting to survive.

_Yes, I see now. The land will accept your sacrifice._  He thinks. After a snap of his fingers, the daggers jump back to his side and are placed inside their respective holsters. He runs a hand along his left leg to confirm that the daggers made it to their correct position. From there, his thoughts turn to his destination. He notices that the trees are becoming more and more spaced out and familiar to him. As he approaches the regional capital, carvings on tree trunks pass by him in a blur. Hanging on those branches are a number of necklaces, rings, and metal bracelets. Carved on each accessory is a date and a name, most of which he has already memorized.

Ahead of him, the forest breaks into a large clearing. In the center sits a large and well-decorated evergreen tree. Encircling it are floating orbs that emit light, but the figure did not need the light to see what was on the tree. Painted strips of gold and silver metal line the needles, depicting small but readable scenes of peacetime in the capitol and the forest near it. The most prevalent scene is himself and ten others standing around a bonfire in the center of the city. The full moon shines above the fire, bathing the area in its silver light. The man is looking towards the sky as a comet passes overhead.

Paintings to either side of the centerpiece show scenes of feasts, dancing, and storytelling in the capitol square. The being slows his horse down and looks at the tree. He smiles fondly, then urges the horse down the trail. He only stops when the forest gives way to flat grasslands. There, his gaze falls on a gated wall that is as dark as the night around it. The shadows under the overhang at the top of the wall shifts as if it is alive. As it skirts past a torch by the gate, the flame flickers and dims noticeably. A guard wandering behind the parapet stops and turns toward the horse and rider. He calls down to a pair of guards standing behind the gate, who then motions to the visitor to come closer.

A gentle shiver runs up the visitor’s spine.  _They accept_ , He thinks. He calls for the horse to head for the gate and the horse complies. The ground-level guards keep a close eye on the visitor as they simultaneously grab cranks hanging along the interior of the wall. The gate slowly rises from the ground as they crank. The visitor passes under it and dismounts. With a whisper, the horse fades away, its energy returning to him. It fills him with warmth and brings focus to his tired mind. Riding six hours across three different towns would normally be a stress-free experience, but he was stopped multiple times. Those that halted his journey did not listen to his protestations. _People_ , He thinks bitterly.  _They see a god and don’t listen._

A guard approaches him and taps him on the shoulder. “Atraxa,” The guard bows at him.

“Where is the king?” He asks swiftly. “I need to meet with him immediately. Take me to him.” The guard obediently leads him through the quiet capital streets. Most of the houses lining the streets have no lights on, in contrast with the orbs illuminating the streets. Atraxa’s gaze locks onto two tall castle towers in the center of town. A purple glow emanates from two large crystals sitting inside the rooms at the top of the towers.

The stained glass surrounding one depicts Atraxa coming down from the heavens and coronating the first king. On the adjacent tower, the first king and three others stand in a circle while the two towers form right in front of them. Their surroundings are as dark as any moonless night would be. A red sun shines in the image, its rays doing nothing but hitting the darkness and falling prey to it. The next panel is split into two parts. One shows the formation of the two purple crystals alongside the towers. The second denotes seven beings inserting the crystals into a clear capsule.

The black brick on the towers look as if they absorbed all light around them. Ringed around the tower and constructed out of thicker brick is the tower base itself. Gentle blue and orange light is casted on ivory plaques commemorating the tower's creation:

_Let it be that on the first anniversary of our creation, the two towers henceforth known as Ka and Dara, shall serve as the Light and the Stars that guide us home._

_Let it be that on the fifth month of our first year, I, Kha, the first of the Drael and the First King, hereby name this city Drae Lanor as the capitol of Kha'An. We have came from nothing, from no one. The only masters we have is ourselves and our dear creator. From non-existence, we rise up and claim this land as our own_

_May peace eternally shine on this land, and may Atraxa bless us._

Atraxa remembered the words being etched on the ivory. The joy and pride of the townsfolk welled up inside him that very day. He remembered that it nearly brought him to tears. With a blink, and a shake of his head, the god focuses on more current affairs.

A second tingle up his spine alerts him to the shadows starting to shift in fundamental ways. A vision of a clearing halfway across the continent enters his headspace. Shadows the moonlight casts on the trees bend and shift to the center of the clearing. The god begins feeling tense from these visions. They only survive until Atraxa enters the central square.

The central square's centerpiece is the two towers. Between them, an illuminated fountain sits. Water spews out of the mouths of two oppositely colored dragons. A white dragon's left wing and tail is firmly wrapped around the black dragon's body. Their faces are identical down to the scales and ram-like horns protruding off either side of their forehead. The black dragon's claws look as though they can cut through the strongest steel, while the opposite dragon's claws and spikes are a lot more dull and refined. Their red and blue eyes gaze upon the base of the towers. Blue and red light reflects off their metal claws, spikes, and horns. The statue gives off an air of realism around it, as if the dragons themselves could come to life and protect the towers and the townsfolk themselves.

Atraxa steps into the protective aura the dragons emit and relaxes into it. With a snap of his fingers, the white dragon's left hindpaw twitches with a metallic  _creak_. His guide stops when Atraxa passes by him. He sits next to the fountain, placing his hand on the white dragon's wing. Atraxa gives it a gentle pet before heading up to the base of the left tower.

The man carefully maneuvers around some of the icier spots on the tower steps. He walks along the tower base until he reaches a well-lit wooden door. Opening it soundlessly, he steps into a small passageway. He sheds his soaked cloak, smoothing back his long black hair in the process. A new cloak forms around Atraxa's body when the old cloak is placed down on wet stone flooring by the door. Slowly, Atraxa ascends the staircase.

_He must be asleep. There is no way the king is up this late,_  Atraxa thinks.  _Well, then I guess he's in for a rude awakening. Gods do not sleep, nor should kings._  A gust of wind blows some water onto his cloak as he passes by a tower window. Atraxa sticks a hand out into the water, looking at his hand as he withdraws it. He shakes off his hand, then continues his trek up. At the top of the tower is a hatch on the ceiling and a large wooden door in front of Atraxa.

"Wake up, Raedel" Atraxa knocks hard against the door. The king snaps awake, scrambling to his feet and opening the door. Raedel blinks a few times and gasps upon seeing who is at the door. He swiftly bows.

"My lord," He says in awe. "You're here? Here at this ungodly hour even?"

"You and I need to have a chat," Atraxa says calmly. "Sit down, please." He motions to the bed. Raedel nods, yawning and sitting on a pillow. Atraxa sits facing Raedel at the foot of the bed. Both sit in silence for a few moments as each contemplate the other's next move. Atraxa breaks the silence with a soft sigh.

"The shadows are shifting. A... A mass movement to a clearing halfway across the damn continent," Atraxa says. Raedel leans forward, interest lighting up in his eyes.

"That is days away, my lord," Raedel quips. "We can't pool up resources for something that close by and so far away at the same time. If we can't be there for this birth, then what  _can_  we do?"

Atraxa leans back. "Dispatch a few riders to the birth location with orders to track it. If we can't get the newborn Drael into the capitol, then we have to make sure they are safe."

Raedel understands where Atraxa is coming from. His kind has not had a birth in a year. Hearing that there is another one coming puts his mind at ease a bit.  _Yet, surely this must mean something for the future, Rae? Surely, this means that danger is afoot. You hear the stories._  Raedel shakes his head, forcibly shutting down the train of thought before paranoia sets in.

"Ah, yes Raedel. I get it," Atraxa's hand moves on top of Raedel's. It is cold, clammy, and yet there is a sense of warmness to it. Raedel takes Atraxa's hand into his own and cups his other hand over it.

"You... do?" He asks. "You... do understand these thoughts I'm having?"

"Why of course. I have them too when I learn about these sorts of things. Hold your head up high and look to the future. We will grow in strength and influence." Atraxa pats at Raedel's hand. "I would ask you about your partner, but you have things to take care of. I will be at the altar if you need me." The god disappears, black smoke swirling around in the wake of the teleportation.

With a sigh, Raedel stands up and does his god's bidding.

* * *

In a clearing far to the east, shadows from the moon cast a black haze over the ground. Silvery light illuminates the haze as it slowly builds up toward the treetops. An easterly breeze sends leaves scattering towards the shadows, where they fade away and join the shadows and the mist. It expands outward and upward, taking any life the mist touches and converting it into energy it can use.

 A deer laying nearby lifts its head. Slowly, the mist brushes up against the deer's tail and slowly disintegrates it. A burning sensation is felt by the creature. The burning is followed by fear and an intense drive to get away from the killer mist. It gives into these desires, choosing to follow a trail it created earlier. Other creatures are not so lucky. Birds nesting in trees become aware of the mist as it swallows them. Bats fly into the mist without knowing it is there. Thin bones fall onto the dirt that was once home to grass, flowers, and the insects that fed off of them and each other. The owls and squirrels that remain on the trees are also taken by the mist.

As time passes, expansion slows, then comes to a halt. A northern gust hits the clearing, beginning to agitate the dark smoke. The mist starts to circulate counterclockwise. Towards the center, additional dark energy begins oozing from the ground. The energy propels upward, kicking up dust and forming a dark and shimmering shell in its wake. Similar smaller shells spring up in a circle around the main one. The mist swirls more violently as more and more energy is added into the system.

Wind blows hard against tree branches, ripping out the smaller ones and scattering them around the area. Creatures cautiously creeping back to the clearing are forced back deeper into the forest when shadow-charged dust pelts at the trees and the ground nearby. As soon as the dust hits organic matter, shadow energy is injected into it and begins to consume the material. A disintegrating branch rubs against another tree trunk, sending the energy into that tree. It continues to spread to trees directly touching the ones being disintegrated until none remain.

Above the clearing, clouds begin to build up from the local instability. Humans inside a small bandit camp a few miles away hear the sound of thunder from the cloud system. Their eyes turn to the sky and see no clouds. Guards patrolling the perimeter are stopped by the distant sounds. They have heard no word of approaching storms from Elven forecasters. A man with short blond hair sits by a campfire, cleaning off a suit of leather armor. A guard approaches him and informs him of the thunder in the camp.

"It's too late for this shit, Merceus," The bandit leader skeptically raises an eyebrow at the guard. "You sure you haven't been drinking?"

"Positive, sir. I heard it to the south. Ask any guard around here and they will tell you that," Merceus replies with a steely gaze. The bandit leader eyes him closely and finds no deception in his eyes.

"Fine. Send scouts in the morning," He waves Merceus away, turning his gaze turning to the campfire. The leader opens a pouch strapped to his waist, taking out a whiskey flask and downing it to stem the uncertainty and worry in his mind before it further clouds his judgment.

With a flash of lightning and the accompanying  _crack_ , the shadow mist and the shells fade away. Moonlight shines on the clearing, illuminating a cloaked black haired man, two daggers, a short sword, and a leather bag. The cacophony that made up his immediate surroundings is long gone. Dimly, the sounds of the few displaced creatures are heard by the man. Layering over the sparse sounds are crickets and frogs, undisturbed by the life stealing force that ravaged the clearing life was created in.

One of the man's fingers shakily brushes against the dirt. With a heavy gasp, the man sits up, breathing heavily. His gaze frantically sweeps across the clearing, an unexplained feeling of terror coming over him. His body starts to shake more.

_Where am I? Where in the hell am I? No, not where. Who? Who am I?_  He scrambles for one of the daggers by his side and stabs it into the ground. A shadow pulse rockets out, taking his frantic thoughts and feelings with it. Left behind is a comforting void; a sense of clarity and great caution; and a deep, unexplainable longing for something to be by his side.

_No. Now is not the time to think these thoughts,_  He thinks.  _There is a time for that later. There will always be a time for skepticism._  The man closes his eyes and begins to hone in on his emotions. His hands drift to the bag, opening it up without much trouble. He starts to toss the bag's contents all over the clearing. Vials of silver, red, and gold liquid fly out and settle onto the ground. Following the vials are three hunting daggers, a spool of bowstring, and a locked wood box. His hand scrapes against a wooden key and pulls it out. In the moonlight, he cannot seem to pick out many details on the key. His hand runs over the unique teeth of the key. Without thinking, he sticks the key into the keyhole and twists it. Hearing a click, he opens the box.

The first thing he notices is the reflection of a distorted moon staring back at him. Inside the box is a perfectly smooth sphere as silver as the moonlight itself. He picks it up, finding it light in his hands. When he knocks on it, no echo is heard. Instead, the sphere rolls out of his hand seemingly by its own will. It hits the ground by his feet. Slowly, it rolls to the clearing edge. The man stands and follows it.

_What the hell?_  He thinks.  _First I wake up with no knowledge, and then a freaky sphere seems to have a mind of its own? Just what even is all this?_  The thoughts frustrate him a bit. He stops a foot or so behind the sphere, then kneels.

All at once, cracks and pits appear on the sphere's surface. Two large square-shaped surface pieces pivot outwards on a side facing him and the opposite side. A skinnier rectangular piece juts out between the two on the backside of the sphere. Relatively small cubic pieces of all three parts travel around the sphere and orient themselves. The cubes stop after around a second when the two square segments take the shape of a dragon's wing and the rectangular one the shape of a dragon's tail. To make the point, a few cubes are cut in half diagonally. They travel to the tail segment right when the bottom of the sphere starts to unfurl and shape itself into the lower half of a dragon.

The man watches as, if in a flash, the dragon's legs are created in front of him. The shape of the back, neck, and head come quickly after. Large swaths of the untouched areas are unfolded, torn apart, and sculpted onto other parts to build them up and expand them. Two panels slide out on the dragon's head. Hiding behind them is an eye-shaped panel of tiny lights. The dragon's mouth opens, revealing pointed teeth and an organic tongue. The panel of lights flick on, then begin to flash in a number of patterns and colors before settling on red. The remaining cubes scattered throughout its body withdraw into panels that slide out.

It taps each claw into the ground, flicks its tail a few times, then settles its steely gaze onto him. A monotone female voice comes out of her mouth: "Matthew. You're Matthew. You look like a Matthew to me."

The man blinks, then frowns at the dragoness. "And who are you to make such a-" His eyes widen a bit. A feeling of anger washes over him. He manages to squash it down and dig past it. Confusion in his mind still reigns. Deeper in are feelings that he can't seem to recognize: Confusion towards himself.

_No, that's not me... is it? Can't be._  He thinks. He shakes his head and grunts. "Are you confused?" He asks. The dragoness blinks, tilting her head a bit at him, then suddenly skitters back until her tail bumps into a tree. A spooked feeling bubbles up in the man.

_She can feel me?_  He asks himself, shocked that this can be a thing.  _What? How? I can feel her too._  The man shakes his head, stepping back a few times and sitting down. He takes a moment to take all of this in. A dragoness was born in front of his eyes from something that should absolutely not house one. This was a dragoness that could apparently sense the most personal things he had aside from his thoughts. His world is only as big as the clearing he is sitting in, and it is already overwhelming him. To ward off panic, he gathers one of the hunting daggers in his hand and stares at the black handle. The handle itself is a perfect fit for his hands. He clenches his hand around the handle and shuts his eyes.

The movement of grass and fluttering of wings leave him lost. He wondered if he scared off the dragoness. He then shakes his head and stabs the dagger into the ground. A second pulse rockets out and calms him down. He probes her emotions and finds a need of food. The man's stomach growls.

_Matthew..._  He licks his lips.  _Boring name for a boring guy. Fine. It fits. She would call me by it no matter what name I choose._  The bitterness in his thoughts echo what he feels about her.  _Name me? I didn't even get to pick! I don't even have a choice in this!_  He grips the handle tightly once more.

As the moon slides across the sky, his emotions quiet down. His breathing becomes shallower and he finds himself drifting into a meditative state.


	2. Discovery

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Smaller chapter than the last one. Enjoy <3

"I'm telling you, we should leave," Matthew's dragoness stares down at the man. Her voice is cool, with a very faint hint of roboticism to it. The monotone undertones is clear to him. The man's hood is draped down over his shoulders, revealing black hair that flows down to the bottom of his neck. The orange of the morning sun shines on the western edge of the clearing.

Matthew takes a deep breath, taking in the abnormally crisp morning air. "And I'm telling you, we should learn more about this area before we wander willy-nilly into the woods." Matthew manages to make his voice more monotone than the more artificial being in the camp. He turns his gaze to the ashes. "I will not have myself die to some beast of the forest. I heard a howl when I woke up, you know."

"You would be a good wolf snack," The dragoness states plainly. "You wouldn't even fight back if it snapped their jaws at you."

Matthew's gaze hardens slightly. "Oh, you have little faith in me?" He says coldly. "I guess it is not too surprising, considering you saw exactly nothing coming from me."

"Nothing but sitting on your ass, mumbling words like 'Drae' and 'god'. I don't get you. You've done nothing."

"Nothing but make the fire and clean up my shit. You were off hunting, providing for yourself and only yourself. My shit at least provides for both of us."

The dragoness scoffs. "Oh  _now_  you're worried about me?" Her tail flicks, almost in anger. She growls softly at him. "And not when I was hunting?"

"Oh, you can just flap those shiny little wings and fly away. What is a large spider going to do if it gets you? Eat you? Tangle you up in its web and sink those fangs into you?"

"See, you're giving the spider too much credit. It wouldn't be able to penetrate." The dragoness scratches at her arm. A screeching sound fills the air, leaving Matthew disoriented. The metal scales remain scratchless. "And if it did, you wouldn't give a shit."

Matthew rubs at his head, taking a moment or so to reorient himself. After the world around him becomes clear, the dragoness without a name is gone. The rustling of leaves to his left betrays her movement. The light flashes off spines on her tail before it slips into the woods.

Alone, he turns back to his mind.  _I can't be with her,_  He thinks.  _He lied to me. He's a liar. That... self-proclaimed god._  Internally, Matthew laughs. He searched for truth in the words of the being that came to him in his meditations and found that every single word that they said was true. Matthew shakes his head a bit, still assuming that the being is still deceiving him in some way. If the dragon was bonded to him, surely he could have felt it? With a growl, he turns away from those thoughts.

He takes a look around and only sees trees, dirt, and the ash pile nearby. A small pile of logs nestles near one of the larger trees to the north. Imprints of his weaponry and other goods lay in the dirt. His hand drifts to the bag by his side, before opening it and taking out a dagger. He starts twirling it in his hand. His gaze falls on the blade as it cuts a circle in the air.

"Was he...?" Matthew asks, a lack of surety in his voice. He drops the knife, the tip slicing through his cloak and embedding into the ground. "H-he is." Guilt floods his mind as he comes to the slow realization that he was all wrong. Matthew shuts his eyes as he grasps the handle of the blade.

A deep, rumbling voice not unlike a dragon's pops into his head:  _It's about damn time, kid._

"I am not a kid," Matthew says calmly, but somewhat coolly. Matthew tenses up a bit when he hears a chuckle in his head.

_You are. You're not even a day old._

Matthew scowls. "And who are you to judge"

 _I am your king._  Raedel appears in the clearing, sitting on a tree branch. Matthew whirls around to face him. The body flickers, the fades, only to reappear right beside him. Matthew swipes at the invader's shoulder, only hitting air.

"A king that would not leave their throne to meet me," Matthew says. "I have no king to rule me over."

"No gods no masters? Is that the ideology you're going for? I know you are in your edgy teen phase. I see it in your eyes, so from that, part of me weeps for you. You are like everyone else past post-creation. You, like everyone else, do not simply believe what you cannot see. You can't believe that someone hundreds upon hundreds of miles away can exert influence on little 'ol you."

Matthew scowls.  _How did he-_

"Ah, so I'm right. Young buck, you will eventually grow out of this phase through force or through natural events." The king crosses his arms and frowns deeply at him.

"I will not be chided by-"

"Quiet." The king scowls at Matthew. His words reverberate through the clearing, causing birds to stir from their perches. A wooden cane materializes in his hand. He cracks it down on Matthew's head, smiling a bit when he sees the younger man flinch and step away from it. "I would say something about respecting your elders, but we do not work like that. You should learn where and when you must speak to me."

Matthew opens his mouth, and a glare from the illusionary king shuts him up before he has a chance to speak.

"I am no authoritarian. Do not think of me, or speak of me as such. Does a newly born child question where his mother takes him?" Matthew's silence earns him another crack on the head. "Well? Does he?"

"N-no," Matthew says, somewhat shaken. He regains his composure, then frowns at the king. "Not at all."

"You are like that baby. The world is your clearing and all the shit you have in that bag. There is no East or West Zaroth, nor East or West Montania, nor is there Kingsland and Kha'An. There is only here." He indicates the clearing's center with his cane. "And the only ones in your world is Atraxa, Aluca, and I. Your dragon partner named herself, but she never told you because you chased her off like a little shit."

Matthew bristles in anger. "She started it!"

"Maybe she did, but you had no right to escalate if that was the case. If you're lying, which I highly suspect that you are, then you had no right to be a jerk. Did Atraxa nail into your head her importance?"

"I exist because of her," Matthew recalls. A shiver runs up his spine as the lie unravels in front of him. The man feels the shadow energy shift inside him. The deception was as clear as day, hidden beneath his own god's words.

"No. I see that you finally caught onto that. Do you want the truth? She exists  _because_  of you, my child. If you died right here, she would fall as well." The king states. "If I were you, I would  _be careful._ "

"Are... are you saying that I should learn more about the area before charging off into the woods?" Matthew asks.

"Yes, being careful implies that you should learn about the threats around. Don't let your correctness get to your head. Let that be the first lesson I shall each you."

Matthew scowls. "Yeah, try-"

"Quiet," The king says. Matthew obeys. "You are as liable to her safety as she is to yours."

"She doesn't deserve my protection though."

"I realize I'm not changing minds here. Aluca deserving it or not does not  _matter_  in the grand scheme of things. It is an implied contract of-"

"I didn't agree to anything!" Matthew frowns heavily, anger bubbling up. His stare turns into a glare. The fingers on his right hand twitch.

"Oh, but you did." The king stares into Matthew's eyes. "You exist. You agree to it because the survival of society itself demands it. This is why we have the laws of the land."

Impulsively, Matthew shuts himself away from the conversation and leaps at the king. Like before, he only hits air. The shadows making up the illusion break apart and cling onto Matthew's outstretched arms. Matthew's senses dull around him as the shadows enter his body and take control of his body. Matthew goes limp, drifting off to sleep at the behest of the shadows.

* * *

Aluca's sensors barely registered that her partner drifted off to sleep. Instead, they were busy taking in every sight and smell around her. Matthew's chatter in her head largely died down by the time she flew into a smaller clearing. Her gaze scans around the area and picks out potential paths with uncanny swiftness. The wind shifts to the north, carrying a leaf with it. She opens her maw and spits out embers. Upon contact with the leaf, it burns away in the air.

The dragoness lands in the clearing and ruffles her wings. Matthew had angered her quite a bit.  _I don't like him very much._  She thinks. She would be the first to admit that his discontent for her has left her slightly nervous for their well-being.

 _W-we are alone here, but that could change._  She thinks.  _And when it did, would he be here? Would he... care?_  Anxiously, she looks back in the direction she came from.  _God, I'm a lot like him, aren't I? I think and think and think and say only things that could hurt. Was that the Matthew of yesterday?_

"Or... did he change?" She looks toward the sky, noting down the sun's position mentally. Aluca's perception of time slows when she is away from him. "Did his god change him? Did... our god? What did he say to him?" Aluca sighs heavily. Her tail sags a bit, a heavy sinking feeling coming over her. She realized that her anger was misplaced. The dragoness could not help but disagree with his notions of leaving. Whether it was a sense buried deep within her, or just a wild guess, she knew the area was unsafe. One of her claws flicks a blade of grass.

 _I shouldn't have said those things to him. If you can hear me, I'm sorry._  She mentally calls out for him. The calls fall on deaf ears and a closed mind. Aluca curls up in the grass, shivering as the tip of a grass blade tickles at her nose. She gives it a disgruntled nibble. Aluca lets go of those emotions with a shaky sigh. She buries her face in her chest feeling lonelier than she ever has been since she existed.

Her rationalizations quickly come moments later.  _A scared man. Scared? Overwhelmed. An overwhelmed man who spent his time trying to understand the world around him. I cannot fault him for that. Perhaps he wants to leave to seek out a better place. I do too... eventually._

Aluca's gaze softens. Thoughts of her verbally agreeing with her partner bubbles to the surface before being squashed by her analytical side. If they stayed, they would become easy targets in her eyes. Two beings of great value sitting in a clearing would surely attract others seeking out their material wealth. Aluca could not bank on potential seekers being kindhearted and virtuous. The chances of that happening were very low. If they left, they would be safer.

Gently, Aluca probes Matthew's current state. Readings and graphs in her internal displays show a higher than normal duration of inhalation. The man's heart rate is lower from average when she extends the data back to their creation. Aluca seeks out mind activity to break the tie between sleep and meditation in her mind. A lack of such leads her to her conclusion.

 _Sleep. He is... sleeping? Well shit._  She uncurls to flop onto her side. Aluca gently bites at a nearby blade of grass. Pressure on her left wing causes her to shift onto her back. Green leaves above her sway in the early morning wind. Grass ripples around her and tickles her sides gently. Her forepaw bats at a blade of grass rubbing at her wing. The dragoness tears it out before throwing it to the side in a blatant disregard for nature. It drifts to the north where it nestles on the top of a bed of grasses near a thin tree. Her gaze follows it every step of the way.

Aluca rolls to a stand, flying onto the lowest tree branch before perching on it. Her gaze sweeps around the clearing. Nothing is out of the ordinary there. Her gaze flicks up the tree trunk before she digs her claws into the trunk. The dragoness begins scaling the tree, partially in boredom, and partially in curiosity as to what was around her.

Aluca digs her claws in the trunk even harder once she reaches the top of the tree. Her hind paws scrape against it before she finds her footing. Her gaze flicks to the left, then to the right. Surrounding her are leaves of other trees. She uses her hind paws to flip back off the tree with her wings spread. Sunlight glints off her belly before she flips back around. Her claws find purchase on a fairly wide tree branch. There, she turns to face north.

Trees are visible for miles around her. Her watchful eyes pick out a number of clearings in the distance. Breaks in the treetops alert her to a potential east-west river stretching as far as her peripheries can go. Aluca leans forward, then sniffs at the air. The dragoness ruffles her wings as an attempt to cut through a faint feeling of tension around her.

A cracking sound nearly makes her jump off of the branch. She felt as if she needed to get out of there  _now._  Not wanting to delay anything further, she leaps off the branch and ascends a hundred feet. Immediately, she spots movement in the flora below. Humanoid figures dressed in light clothing make their way to the south. Easily spotted on their bodies are twin daggers and a pouch tied to a ring on their belts. These mysterious men trip alarms within the dragoness. She suppresses a prompted change in her visual interface, plots the fastest course to Matthew, then makes her way over as fast as she can.

 _I hate being right,_  She thinks.  _I hate it. I hate it. I hate it. Not like this._  While the fresh air is a godsend to her, she has a lot more on her plate to deal with. Swiftly, she lands in Matthew's clearing. She stares at Matthew's sleeping body for a moment before desecrating it with a few embers to his skin.

Matthew scrambles for his dagger in a half-asleep state. Much to Aluca's surprise, he does not lunge at her, nor does he yell out in pain or surprise. His gaze sweeps around the clearing before meeting Aluca's.

"Oh for-" Matthew begins, his face contorting in anger.

"Save it. We have a problem," Aluca says. "Remember when I said we should leave earlier? Right... we should.  _Now._ "

"I'm not budging," Matthew frowns and crosses his arms.

"You said you needed to learn more. We are surrounded by forests at all sides. There is a river to the north. Maybe we will find civilization if we follow it," Aluca's tail flicks nervously. Matthew stares at her slightly shaking body.

"No." He says coolly. "You interrupted my sleep for this?"

"I can't go at this alone," Aluca whines softly. She stares up at him with a quivering lip and a saddened gaze. Aluca did not want to fight against him especially when their safety is at stake.

Matthew's gaze is cold and unwavering. "Let me sleep." He says. "Whatever caused you to suddenly flip out and burn my arms can go die in a fire. I  _need_  my rest. Scamper off until I wake, little dragoness."

Aluca shakes her head. "Sleep if you wish. I won't leave your side. I do not care what you  _think_  about this. As your partner, I won't have you killed by what may come."

Matthew scoffs, laying on his side and drifting off. Aluca tears her gaze away from the childish man. She truly does not understand why he is insistent on staying behind.

 _What does he see here?_  She thinks.  _I don't even think Atraxa knows at this point. What a... cold and weird person._  Aluca focuses back on her surroundings. She tenses up when the fluttering of wings enters her sensors.

"I have to relax," She says softly. She closes her eyes and takes a deep breath.

 _"Ah... you're like this now."_  Says a voice in her head. It is deep with robotic tones that sound much like her own. With only a sample size of one, her analysis of the voice instantly returns inconclusive. Aluca's gaze snaps open. It sweeps around the grass, then the trees. Frantically, she flips her vision systems to a thermal view. Blues and purples from the temperatures of her surroundings fill her view. Only Matthew and herself are detected as anomalies in her systems. With a resigned sigh, she deactivates the program and settles down onto her stomach.

"Who are you?" She asks.

_"Neither your god nor your king. Raedel does not see me as a king as kings are not dragons. I am a member of your species. My name is Neketu. Best you commit that to memory as I will be contacting you more times."_

"Onto the why now. Why are you talking to me?"

_"At the king's behest, I opened up a private channel between us. The prompt should appear soon. Accept it if you wish. We can speak much like you can with your partner."_

A prompt from an internal system she has never seen nor heard of pops into her view. She accepts it with a simple thought.

_Perhaps being alone here would not be so bad._

_"Indeed. You have much to learn, Aluca. I will not teach you a lot of things. Most will come down to you naturally discovering your internals. That is how I did things when I was a hatchling. A trial by fire only means that the strong would survive. We survive when the strong do."_

Aluca spreads her left wing and licks at the metal connecting it to her body.  _Sounds tribalistic._

_"A young race is tribalistic, yes. We are good, while the other is a menace except when that menace benefits our society. We, however, strive to be better than a mere tribe of... off humans. Knockoff humans, even. We are better than a young race because we matured faster than a young race."_

_And faster maturity means what? You're stronger?_

_"Stronger and more adaptive."_  A gentle purr fills her auditory sensors. She could neither spot nor touch the source.

_So... Mister Neketu..._

_"Just Neketu, please. No honorifics. I do not want you to see me as your superior. I am your equal, Aluca. We shall see each other as such."_

_F-fine._  Aluca repeats her licking with her other wing.

 _"On an unrelated note... I realize the whole 'telepathic conversation and then suddenly being there as an illusion' thing is played out to the extreme in our society. I will spare you with such... antics, shall we say?"_  Aluca signals back an affirmative internally. " _So... you have a bit of a partner problem?_ "

 _A bit? Try... try..._  She casts her gaze to the ground and sighs heavily. She could not stop the tears welling up in her eyes.  _H-he hates me._

 _"Does he now? Well, that just won't do. Send me what you have of him."_  As if obeying an order, Aluca compiles all her memories of Matthew. She sends it off to Neketu using another system she doesn't yet understand.

The silence on her end is deafening. She did not know if he was angry or if he was taking it all in. Aluca's wings ruffle as her breaths become shakier. A long and pained-sounding sigh is all she gets back before the feed between them is suddenly cut.

**Author's Note:**

> Configured Manuskript to replace scene breaks with horizontal rules in the HTML exporter, so this should make things easier to transfer over. Until next time <3


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